


King of Bones

by aminathescorpio, Fae_vorite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Apollo is a Little Shit, Body Worship, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Complicated Relationships, Dark Harry Potter, Digital Art, Draco Malfoy Has Long Hair, Draco Malfoy as Persephone, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Erotica, Fanart, Fanart on tumblr!!!, Fantasy, Flirty Apollo, Greek gods, Harry Potter as Hades, ITS GORGEOUS, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion), Kidnapping, Mildly Dubious Consent, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Multi, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology References, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Harry Potter, Protectiveness, Relationship(s), Slight horror, Smitten Harry Potter, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Stubborn Draco Malfoy, Stubborn Harry Potter, THERE'S FANART Y'ALL, Top Harry Potter, Virgin Draco Malfoy, dark themes, eroticism, go check it out at faevorite-main-blog, it's gorgeous, literally everybody simps over draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28744980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminathescorpio/pseuds/aminathescorpio, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fae_vorite/pseuds/Fae_vorite
Summary: Harry wanted to take him apart and put him back together, to make him weep and to make him howl with laughter, to be his master and his slave and his everything.ORThe re-telling of the myth of Hades and Persephone! However, this story has some extra twists to it.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 58
Kudos: 248





	1. Harry

**Author's Note:**

> You can check out the FABULOUS art faevorite made for this on her Tumblr!!! (faevorite-main-blog)

(I)

Harry was merely taking a stroll when it happened. It was a pleasantly cool day, and the sun peeked behind the large clouds just enough to cast a warm glow onto the planet below. The tree nymphs danced and swayed to the gentle tunes of the satyrs, the flowers were all in full bloom and even the animals were bathing in the dim sunlight.

The only reason he was even outside at all was because Hermione had forced him to go get some ‘fresh air’ as if he needed it. He snorted. He was a _god,_ for goodness sake. The only beings who needed ‘fresh air’ were mortals.

Wherever he stepped, the grass withered away, the trees cowered away from his dark aura. Even the animals knew better than to get in his way. The ground became a dying wasteland beneath his feet and all around him, but that wasn’t his concern. Demeter could easily fix that, anyways.

The nymphs were wise enough to bow down and stay out of his path. He was sure that they still remembered the time when one of their own, a willow nymph, had dared to stand in his way. She had the _audacity_ to remain in his path as he was passing by. _He,_ the God of the dead and the Ruler of the Underworld. In all his several millennia, Harry had never seen any creature as arrogant as she.

Her foolish pride had ensured her ultimate demise. Harry chuckled to himself at the image. After he had destroyed her willow tree, it was quite enjoyable to watch her slow, painful death.

Hermione had really chewed him out for that one. He smiled wistfully. She had acted as if a mere tree nymph was worth giving a damn for! But then again, that was Hermione. Protector of the ‘innocents.’ He snorted and chuckled quietly to himself.

He eyed the sparse trees distastefully. Really, there was nothing here worth coming to see! Why in heavens did he even bother in-

Harry froze in his tracks.

Some few stadia ahead of him, there was a god sitting among some flowers. Surely, it was a god, for no _mortal_ could have ever been this breathtaking.

The man _glowed_ under the soft light of the sun, creating an ethereal halo that Harry wanted to tear into shreds and keep entirely to himself. His pale, delicate skin called out, _demanded_ that Harry sink his sharp teeth into it, to claim the man and mark him as his own. His flowing, white-gold hair was nothing short of perfect, of _beautiful_. The man was an angel, sitting in his heaven and Harry was the forbidden snake, the poisoned apple that the man would bite into and fall into evil, into the darkness, into _Harry’s_ darkness.

Harry couldn’t even breathe. He could only watch as the man cupped his hands and allowed a pure-white butterfly to land gently on his milky-white palms. The butterfly nuzzled into the man’s soft strokes against its spine, waving its antennae happily. The man laughed softly, his tinkling, melodic voice losing itself in the breeze and drifting all the way to Harry’s listening ears.

The man watched as the butterfly flew into the sky with a peaceful, yet wonderous expression on his face. His hands fell gracefully to his sides, adjusting the flowing white chiton he was wearing. Even more of his satiny skin was revealed, making Harry take a step closer to him..

Harry wanted to take him apart and put him back together, to make him weep and to make him howl with laughter, to be his master and his slave and his _everything_. He stepped even closer to the man than before, his cattle skin sandals making the leaves beneath his feet crunch noisily.

The noise made Harry suddenly snap out of his trance and stumble backwards. What was _wrong_ with him? This had never happened before. _Never_.

Harry turned around and vanished into thin air. The only thing he left behind was the strong stench of magma and the crumpled petals of a blood-red rose.

(II)

Harry couldn’t get the picture of the man out of his head. It had been some days (or weeks; he lost track of time when he wasn’t firmly grounded to reality) and he still couldn’t get think of anything but the beautiful blond.

His silky hair was as pale as dressed flax, his supple skin looked as soft as a cloud, his-

“Harry!” Harry jumped slightly in his seat, then scowled. Gods, he hated when she snuck up on him like that.

“How many times have I told you not to scream in my ear, ‘Mione?” He sighed, opening his eyes to stare at her. She was standing in front of his throne with her arms crossed and her hair a bushy, frizzy mess. Her eyes blazed with fiery fury, making her irises glow almost as brightly as the flowing rivers of lava that illuminated the dark realm.

Had she been anybody else (besides Ron, or his annoying siblings) Harry would have smote them where they stood for the sheer nerve of not cowering beneath him, although every once in a while, he would leave them for the lost spirits to haunt their minds and drive them mad. It was always entertaining.

As it was, now Harry had to listen to her rant and nag and lecture him about lagging behind on his godly duties. Surely, the world could survive on its own for just _one_ week, couldn’t it?

“Why in the _world_ are you acting so irresponsibly? Do you know how many newly-dead souls I’ve had to judge? By _myself_?”

Harry tapped the arm rest of his seat impatiently. “I’ve been busy, ‘Mione.”

“Busy doing what?” She rose an eyebrow accusingly. Harry scowled.

“Nothing. It’s a private matter.” As she opened her mouth to speak up again, Harry hastily cut in.

“I shall be heading to my chambers now. If there’s anything that requires my attention, save it for tomorrow. You are dismissed.”

She narrowed her eyes but conceded, inclining her head slightly. “Yes, my Lord.”

The use of the formal title didn’t escape Harry’s notice. He watched closely as she walked out of the throne room with a careful glint in her rusted copper eyes.

Harry was going to have to be more careful around her now. He knew just what she was capable of; it was why he had chosen her as his advisor in the first place. Her sharp wit and intellect even surpassed those of some lesser gods’.

Damn her.

(III)

“My Lord, Lady Aphrodite has sent you a message.”

Harry bit back a tired sigh and set down the daily report that Ron had sent in for him to inspect. Whenever Aphrodite sent him a message, she was either trying to convince him to settle down with a nice minor goddess as his queen or inviting him to a grand celebration on Mount Olympus that he was required to attend, no matter the circumstances. Harry had managed to escape the last few ones she had invited him too, and he knew that she would eventually find a loophole in his plans.

Harry fervently hoped that it was the former message.

He snapped out of his thoughts and turned back to the trembling phantom servant who was kneeling at his feet with his head bowed respectfully, presenting a papyrus scroll to him on a hammered gold platter. It was tied tightly with a thin red ribbon and bore the seal of Olympus on the edge: a mountain surrounded by a halo and twelve stars, each one for a major Olympian. As it was, Harry barely spent any of his time on Olympus, and he was sure that the only reason he was still considered one was because he was simply too powerful to be ignored. Besides, even if he tried to opt out, Zeus and Poseidon would somehow convince him to change his mind. It had happened several times in the past.

“If it is an invitation to a party, tell Lady Aphrodite that I will not be able to attend any gatherings for some time. I am quite busy with my duties and I cannot ignore them.”

The servant gulped audibly and trembled a little more. “Lady Aphrodite said that I should remind you of the favor she performed for you if you refuse the invitation. She also said to tell you that there’s no way you can avoid them anymore.”

“That _koprophagos._ ” Harry groaned. Of course, she just had to bring the time when he had needed her help to try and make Ron and Hermione fall in love with each other (it was merely for the benefit of the Underworld as a whole – their combined intellect would make Harry even better off than he already was - and _definitely_ not because Harry was tired of seeing them pine hopelessly for each other). That was centuries ago! Of course she just _had_ to bring it up at the worst possible moment.

“Go tell her that I shall attend the party. Now begone!” He picked up the scroll from the platter and unrolled it as the servant quickly vanished.

_Harry, my dear! It’s been too far long since we talked! I hope everything’s alright down there (although I know for a fact that your skin must surely be deathly pale from the lack of sunlight in there. It wouldn’t hurt to come outside every once in a while, you know)._

Harry snorted. The one time Hermione had convinced him to go into the upper world, he had managed to fall head over heels for somebody he had never even met before.

_How are Ron and Hermione? I hope they’re still together now! I would hate for my magic to go to waste._

Harry snorted. Of course, she asked about his advisors before she even thought of wondering how he was. Then again, she was a sucker for a good love story, so he shouldn’t have really surprised. It wasn’t as if he ever asked about her, anyways.

_Anyways, I’m having a party tomorrow! Ares just surprised me with a brand new battalion of chariots commissioned in my honor! Of course, I won’t use them, but a gift of that size certainly deserves a celebration!_

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. After taking a few seconds to calm himself by inhaling the smoky scent of the Underworld, he firmed his resolve and opened his eyes to finish the letter.

_This time, you have to come. I’m not taking any excuses from you, dearie. It’s going to be absolutely fabulous! Who knows, maybe you’ll finally find the woman (or man, I know you’re not picky) of your dreams! Make sure to come as soon as the sun sets tomorrow evening!_

_See you tomorrow, dearie!_

_Love, Aphrodite <3_

He threw the letter to the ground in frustration, where it instantly caught on fire and was reduced to powdery ashes. No matter how much he wanted to stay behind, Harry was a man of his words. If Aphrodite called out the favor she had done for him, so be it.

He stood up and stretched his arms out. If he was attending any party, then he had to find something presentable to wear. It wasn’t every day the Lord of the Underworld came out of his realm, and if he absolutely _had_ to attend then he might as well just use it as an opportunity to intimidate all of the people there.

He cracked a smile at the thought. Perhaps he would meet his little god there as well.


	2. Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is up! I might not always update this quickly, just so you know.
> 
> Also, the chapter titles tell who's perspective the chapter is from.
> 
> I put some asterisks next to some parts that may seem confusing. The explanations are in the notes at the end of this chapter. Also, Kouroi is the male version of Kore, which is Persephone's original name.
> 
> Enjoy!

(I)

Draco smiled softly to himself as he inhaled the fragrant scent of the scarlet red rose he had just plucked from his meadow. Its petals were still as soft as rabbit down, and the small drops of morning dew reflected the bright moonlight in broken beams. Its thorns were still sharp and curved, but Draco knew how to hold rose stems properly. He was the god of springtime, after all. If he didn’t know how to hold them properly, then who would, really?

As he sniffed the rose again, he faintly registered the coppery, cloying scent of blood on it. He exhaled wistfully at the smell. Aphrodite’s scent was still stubbornly stuck to it, even after all this time.*

He secured it behind his ear and moved on to the next flower. A dove-white aster. Its myriad of petals were slightly curved inwards, giving it a rounded shape. He gently touched the pointed tips and pushed them even closer to the center as he looked up into the night sky. Astraea’s legacy would live on forever.* He knew immediately where she was; his mother had taught him how to stargaze when he was still young. The _Virgo_ constellation twinkled brightly in the sky, and Draco mentally traced out the shape. Of course, it looked nothing like a woman, but that was what the imagination was for, anyways.

His strokes gradually became slower as he allowed his mind to wander and trace out each of the constellations in the sky. Libra, Scorpio, Orion, Delphinus, and hundreds more glittered in the inky black sky. They were all beautiful in their own special way.

These were the only places where he got time to _himself_. Away from his overbearing mother, away from Hera’s scrutinizing glares, away from Apollo’s stupid flirting and his leers, _especially_ away from all of the other gods and goddesses alike who pined over him. And that nickname. _Kouroi._ Draco shuddered to himself in disgust.

It wasn’t as if he was entirely unwilling to find a spouse. No, Draco would absolutely _love_ to find the one that was right for him (that is, if they even existed). All he wanted was someone who would love him for who he was, not because he was just a beautiful virgin. He wanted someone who would actually be _faithful_ , and not sleep around like his own father did. As far as Draco was concerned, nobody had met his requirements, so he was not taking anybody. Besides, it wasn’t as if his mother would just send him off to anybody, anyways. She was even more adamant about him remaining a virgin that _he_ was, and that was saying something.

He sighed and shook his head lightly. He came here to escape from everything, not to brood. Besides, it was daybreak was just in a few hours and he would have to leave before his mother discovered that he was missing.

He looked up into the vast night sky and started to trace out the constellations again. Cancer, Aquila, Apus, Pisces…

The stars looked especially beautiful tonight. Draco whispered it into the cool air, and he swore that they gleamed a bit brighter at him.

The folded strap of his ivory chiton had slipped off of his shoulder, revealing his pale chest to the world. His long hair was already coming out of the braid he had put it in earlier that day. He had taken off his leather sandals and placed them on the ground to dry when the sun was still high in the mid-afternoon sky (he had gone to explore some nearby ponds a few hours before). His sacred crown, made of interwoven laurel leaves and cloudberry stems, had been thrown haphazardly to the ground beside him – he hated wearing it, but his mother insisted. Despite the fact that he was less than presentable at the moment, Draco had never felt happier.

(II)

When the moon started to wane in the slowly-brightening sky, Draco sighed bitterly. It was time to go back already. If he had his way, Draco would choose to remain in the fields for eternity, simply picking flowers and watching the sky fade and morph into bright, beautiful colors. Alas, that wasn’t the case, and he didn’t have a choice in his situation.

He stood up and stretched his slightly cramped muscles, groaning softly when his blood rushed unto his stiff muscles. His chiton was a bit wrinkled, but with a snap of his fingers it straightened itself out and artfully positioned the folded strip of silk back onto his shoulder. He braided his hair again, wore his crown and laced up his sandals. He was back to being Kouroi again. Not Draco. _Kouroi._ Gods, he hated that name.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to focus well in order to teleport. Usually, he would morph into a dove and fly away, but he had lingered for too long this time. As soon as he concentrated solely on his essence, blinding flash of light appeared, and Draco winked out of existence.

A fraction of a second later, he re-appeared just on the outside of Mount Olympus, and in front of the Gate of Clouds. As usual, all three _Horae_ ** were at guard. Although they were sisters, it was easy to tell them apart. Thallo’s chocolate brown hair was in a neat bun, and she wore a dress made of rainbow beams and flower petals. Auxo’s curly, auburn hair was interwoven with borrowed bits of sunlight and pieces of the summertime sky into two neat braids. Carpo was the most serious looking of the three, and she was the only one who was holding her spear properly. Her simple, but beautiful tunic was covered by her chestnut-brown peplos.

“Draco, how are you?” Auxo smiled at him warmly. Carpo scowled.

“I strongly advice that you cease this behavior, Draco. Your little escapades will not go unnoticed for long.”

“Oh, get your head out of your arse, sister.” Auxo rolled her eyes. Carpo’s scowl only deepened.

“Not again.” Thallo sighed, pinching the bridge of her freckled nose. “Good morning Draco. Do come inside already, although Carpo is right. You do need to be more careful.” With a wave of her hand, the gates opened, revealing the beauty and glory of Mount Olympus.

Draco smiled and rolled his eyes at the three of them. “I promise I will. I’ll see you three later!”

He waved them goodbye as he flew into the open gates, Auxo and Carpo’s arguing fading behind him.

Olympus was a glorious place. Even Draco couldn’t deny it. Each mountain ridge had buildings and houses more beautiful than the last. It was a blur of polished marble, pure gold and hundreds, if not _thousands,_ of deities who all lived there at least some of the time, if not always. Draco knew of some gods who only came to Olympus to visit others, or to trade goods. He often wished he could be one of them.

Thankfully, the gold-paved streets were mostly empty since it was still quite early. There were some stragglers, most likely a few minor deities trying to get to marketplace early enough.

He mostly kept to the shadows whenever he could, slipping in between buildings and walking against the stone and marble walls. He had done this many times, and he already knew the route by heart. Two lefts, a right turn, a forward on the marble crossroads and going through the tall grass field all the way to his home. The palace he and his mother shared. It was located in the nook of one of the northern ridges, not too far from the Pantheon.

As he made his way through the long, bare streets, he let his mind drift to other events. Like Aphrodite’s party. He honestly couldn’t even remember why she was hosting it in the first place, but Aphrodite seized any chance she got to hold parties, so he wasn’t surprised. As usual, all of the gods on Olympus were invited, as well as several nymphs and elemental spirits. Her parties were always the most lavish out of all the Olympians’, and Draco was expecting at least a thousand people to attend.

He found himself in the green fields a few minutes later, the tall grass reaching up and tickling his knees gently. In the distance, he could see his mother’s palace standing tall and proud, the early morning sunlight reflecting off of the golden rooftops. On its sides, it was surrounded by flowers of every kind, ranging from aquamarine roses to orange sunflowers. That was mostly his own doing.

A butterfly landed his shoulder as he approached the mansion, making him smile. They were always attracted to him for some reason. Probably because he always smelled like flowers.

When he finally arrived at the mansion, he sat at the front door step and breathed in the fresh air. His legs were aching a bit, and-

“Kouroi!” He jumped and spun around. Standing behind him, in her ethereal glory, was his mother. Her cacao eyes blazed with godly fury, and her skin was starting to glow a bit. Draco tsked in his mind. She always was quick to her temper.

“Mother.” He smiled, putting a mask of innocence on his face. If he was going to pretend, he needed to do it well. His mother was scarily good as smelling out lies.

“What were you doing outside? At this time? The sun had not even risen fully!”

“I was just testing out some new flowers I created, mum. I think that I may have found a way to create grains just from their blossoms!” He said excitedly, hoping she would buy into it.

Just as he expected, his mother’s eyes lit up. She was crazy about anything that had to do with cereals. He knew it was because of her godly powers, but Draco liked to call it madness.

“Really? Did you finally ask one of the field spirits to help you?”

Draco snorted mentally. The last time he had talked to a field spirit, things had not gone well. At all. Several terse words had exchanged, and he had never talked to another one of them after that.

To say the least, Draco did not have any sort of good relationship with any of the field spirits. Or the forest nymphs. Or the water fairies. The list went on and on. They all complained that he was too ‘arrogant’ and ‘selfish’ to relate with them well. How was it his fault that they were all too stupid to understand what he was teaching them? Not everybody had the patience of Hestia, especially not him. That was one (and most likely the only) thing he and his mother had in common.

“Yes, and they agreed to teach me. It will take some time, but I’m sure I can master it.” He said sweetly. His mother smiled brightly at him and leaned down to give him a soft kiss on his forehead. Her blond hair brushed his forehead. It smelled strongly of freshly baked bread, for some odd reason.

“I’m so proud of you, _o gios mou_.” She said proudly. “You should go inside, though. We can practice in the afternoon before we go to Aphrodite’s party.”

Draco bit back a grimace. Practicing with his mother meant several hours of intense concentration, staying in the hot sun and generally feeling miserable. _Ugh_.

At least he had the party to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Check out the myths about how Aphrodite created the red rose, and how Astraea was immortalized as a flower and the Virgo constellation.
> 
> **The Horae are the guards to the gates of Olympus and the goddesses of the seasons: Autumn (Carpo), Spring (Thallo) and Summer (Auxo). I tried to incorporate their seasons into their outfits and personalities.
> 
> *** 'O gios mou' means my son in Greek.


	3. Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I'm sorry this took so long to write, but I've just been so busy and stressed this week and I could only write bits and pieces :(
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy :)

(I)

It was almost time for the party, and Draco had nothing to wear. There were countless different outfits in his wardrobe, each one more beautiful than the last. There were his cloudy, translucent himations that were made of morning dew and enticingly showed off his godly body. There were the chitons made of gentle springtime winds and white rose petals that caressed his skin like a teasing fingertip. There were even some robes spun from brilliant gold thread and woven electrum threads that sparkled in the sunlight and would surely make him stand out in the crowd (despite the fact that he hated people pining over him, he _did_ like to show-off a quite a bit). It was just that… none of them were _right_. He loved wearing them, but they just weren’t _right_.

He groaned in frustration and pushed them all aside. He barely had an hour left and he was no closer to finding an outfit than he was thirty minutes ago. If his meddling _mother_ hadn’t decided to teach him useless skills throughout the afternoon, he definitely would have had more time to find something better to wear.

After a few minutes of tense deliberation, he decided to wear one of his newer himations. It was the color of a frothy river in the midday sun and had small tufts of fluffy clouds sewn into it. It was also spun with a bit of silver, which would give it an extra gleam when he stood in a light. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

As his wind servants whooshed into the room to take away his himation and straighten it out, he slipped out of his current robes and sat in front of his charmed water mirror, which never rippled or spilled out of its crystal frame. His pale skin was unblemished and milky; his waist length, golden hair was shiny and silky; his lithe frame was slender and curved at the right places. Draco knew that he was beautiful and a bit exotic.

One of his wind servants floated up to him with a silver platter filled with all of his skincare products; fresh honey from the _Thiriae_ * mixed with ambrosia to cleanse his skin, olive oil made from the sacred olives in Athena’s trees to moisturize his body (if he had flirted with some earth spirits to help him steal some, well, nobody had to know) and crushed wine-colored berries mixed with warm beeswax to give his lips a rosy tint.

As he rubbed the honey mixture onto his face, he pondered idly about the party itself. Aphrodite would definitely overdo it, as she tended to do, but there were a few, ridiculous rumors going around that she had managed to invite to invite the God of the Underworld _himself_. Draco snorted quietly to himself. As if. It was known everywhere that he was a recluse, and Draco could bet his whole wardrobe that it was just a stupid rumor and nothing more. The day he ever saw the Lord of the Dead was the day that he would eat his own robes.

Next was the olive oil. It was warm and freshly made, and he poured a generous amount from the pitcher into his hands before he rubbed it onto his face, over the honey. Normally, he would wait for it to set by itself, but there wasn’t any more time for that (thanks to _somebody_ ), so he summoned a cool breeze from his fingertips to quickly cool down the mask and make it harden. Once it was set, he gently scratched off a small part, before peeling the entire mask off. It hurt a bit, but beauty was pain, after all.

Once he had peeled off the mask, he knew that it was worth it. His face had a soft, ethereal glow to it, and his cheeks were tinted golden from the ichor that had rushed into his face. He looked like… like, well, a _god_.

In the rest of the hour, he dabbed the crushed mulberries onto his lips, lined his eyes with powdered charcoal and soaked his hands, legs and hair in basins of goat milk, rose petals and rosemary. He dried his hair with a warm wind and wore it loose, only tucking a small lotus flower behind his ear. He rubbed his ears and wrists in spring water infused with the fragrance of lilies and jasmines. Then, he rubbed powdered gold onto his cheeks, just to give them an extra shine. Lastly, he slipped on his crown and charmed the cloudberries stems to sprout their sunset red and pumpkin orange berries.

By the time he slipped on his robe, it was already time for the party to start. Of course, he would arrive fashionably late, like he always did. He needed to make sure that there were enough people to witness his grand entrance.

His mother would probably just wear the formal, yellow robes she always wore for parties. Draco wished that she would let him style her outfit at least _once_. She needed some serious fashion advice, and the only person she would ever listen to about that sort of thing was him, anyways. He was sure that she had left ages ago; she had stopped waiting for him decades ago when she realized that it wasn’t worth it. Well, that was what _she_ claimed, anyways.

He stood up from his cushioned seat and stretched, wincing slightly as the ichor rushed to all the parts of his body. He summoned his cattle-skin sandals, the ones that had been dyed white and stretched up his calves. They would go well with his outfit.

Finally, he was ready for the party. The sun had already set a while ago, and if he had to estimate, he was about half an hour late. That wasn’t much, anyways. Aphrodite’s parties lasted for days, sometimes even _weeks_ on end. Her parties were almost up to par with Dionysus’ own. _Those_ ones were something else entirely.

He ran a hand through his hair and floated out of his room, humming idly. He went all the way through the large palace until he reached the grand front entrance. The sun was almost out of sight, and he could already see the moon starting to rise in the sky. He held back a groan. Apollo was definitely going to be at the party, then. While Draco admittedly _did_ enjoy a bit of playful flirting, Apollo always took it too far for his liking. He was simply a menace and a _koróido_.**

With a sigh, he left the entrance and made his way to Aphrodite’s grand palace.

(II)

Aphrodite’s palace glowed beautifully in the dark blue sky. Pastel colored lights illuminated the interior, giving it a soft glow in the dark. There were many people mingling outside, some more drunk than others. He was fairly sure that at least one of them were naked. Probably a minor god and a nymph. He shook his head at their childish antics.

As he approached the grand doors, he smirked as he sensed several heads turning to watch him in awe. Even though they were all drunk on godly wine, the movement still flattered him. Now, as long as none of them tried any funny business, he would be fine.

The golden doors were open, and he slipped inside. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, just taking in the scene in awe. There were brilliant rainbows raining down from the ceiling and several corners, lighting up the dark room and coloring everybody’s faces. There were hundreds of people; some at the wine table, some on the railing of the second floors, waving and chatting happily; some even flying and hanging from the chandeliers. Loud, jaunty music blared, most likely from the satyrs and the dancing faeries in the middle of the room. It was chaotic, and Draco absolutely-

“Kouroi!” Before he knew it, a tan arm slipped around his waist and dragged him into an empty space, away from the main room where everybody was dancing and grinding on each other. He was quickly, but gently, backed against a wall.

He sighed and looked up, raising an eyebrow dryly. “Apollo.”

To be fair, Apollo _did_ look nice. He was wearing a short yellow-orange chiton that glowed softly, which made Draco guess that it was sewn from sunrise beams. His brown leather sandals ran up to his knees, and there was a bit of yellow glitter on his face. It was a simple outfit, but a very good looking one. Not that Draco would ever admit that, Apollo’s ego was already big enough, as it was.

“How are you, love?” Apollo crooned. His grip on Draco’s waist tightened ever so slightly.

“Don’t call me that.” Draco said, slightly annoyed. “And let go of me.”

Apollo slowly released his waist. “Fine then, sweetheart.”

“ _Sweetheart_?”

“It’s either that or ‘love.’” Apollo smirked. Draco sighed and resisted the urge to rub a hand down his face. It would ruin his look, and he was not re-applying his face cosmetics all over again because of a little flirting.

“Fine. Whatever. Leave me alone.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to talk to you.”

“But I want to talk to you, love.” He pouted. He looked annoyingly cute.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine. We’ll talk for ten minutes and nothing more.”

Apollo’s face lit up. “Yay! Let’s go outside. It’s too noisy here.”

He dragged Draco outside by his arm. However, as Draco walked out, he could have sworn that he saw a sharp flash of green in his side vision. When he turned to look at it properly, it was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Thiriae are the three sister nymphs who are the patrons of bees.
> 
> **Koróido is the closest equivalent for simp I could find (it means sucker lol)


	4. FANART

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the absolutely lovely fanart that Fae made for this fic!!! I hope you guys love it as much as I do!


	5. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I just wanted to thank you all for the lovely comments (I have the screenshots ;~;)
> 
> I feel better now, and as I promised I'm done with this chapter! I hope you guys like it!

(I)

Harry hated the stares that he was getting. He knew that him coming out of the Underworld was very strange, not to talk about the fact that it was for a mere _party_ (he mentally cursed Aphrodite again), but so what? How _dare_ they gawk at him? Him, the Lord of the Underworld? He could easily crush all of their souls with a simple command, and he could make their lives miserable with just a snap. They were in no position to act as if they were on his level.

“ _Es kòrakas_.”* He snarled at a nymph that was approaching where he was standing, and she squealed as she ran away back to her group. Her friends chattered nervously around her and scattered like mice when Harry bared his teeth at them. Foolish creatures. He was about to look around for more _koprìas*_ , but he stopped when he noticed his little god standing not too far away.

Harry was entranced. His little darling looked _heavenly_. His lithe body was wrapped in a beautiful, glimmering himation, and he literally _glowed_ under the multicolored lights coming from above. His long hair wasn’t in any braids this time, and his loose blonde locks framed his face like a gold picture frame. His lips were rouged, his skin was smooth and supple, and his lovely, shaped calves were wrapped in his white sandals. He was _perfect_.

Harry’s breath suddenly became rapid and ragged, and he couldn’t help but imagine what lay underneath his darling’s beautiful outfit. Harry wanted to drag him away, rip off his clothes and _ravish_ him, as if Harry was a wild animal and his darling was a rabbit that was ensnared in his trap. His beautiful darling would always beg so sweetly, never wanting Harry to stop and always pleading so prettily for more.

The thought made a slight shiver run down his body.

Unfortunately, his darling was with Apollo at the moment, and they were quite close to each other. _Too_ close for Harry’s liking. Harry clenched his jaw as he saw Apollo’s grip on his darling’s waist tighten ever so slightly. That unfortunate little wretch. He bit the inside of his cheek and calmed himself down. If he acted out now, he would ruin his entire reputation just because of _Apollo_. He could never allow that happen to himself.

He only watched intently as Apollo dragged his darling out of the corner they were in, and out of the palace entirely. He caught a glimpse of his darling’s exasperated, silver eyes as they momentarily flashed towards him. Harry froze. The moment their gaze met, he was sure that-

“Harry!” He was knocked out of his train of thought when a small, soft hand tapped his shoulder. He spun around, about to blast the foolish person away, but he froze when he saw that it was just Hestia.

“Hello, Harry.” She smiled softly. She looked beautiful, even though she was only wearing a modest chiton, a veil on her auburn hair and brown sandals.

“Tia. How are you?” He smiled, squeezing her hand fondly. Out of all of his horrible siblings, she was the only one that he genuinely liked. She was kind, beautiful and all together a wonderful person to be around. A much better person than _him_ , to be honest.

“I’m fine. How are Ron and Hermione?”

“They’re alright and send you their greetings.”

She laughed. “Alright, help me greet them as well. I must be on my way now, as I just came to check up on you. Do make sure that you don’t get into too much trouble, alright?”

Harry snorted. “You should be telling that to Dionysus, not me.” He looked pointedly at Dionysus, who was holding at least six glasses of wine in his hands. He already looked drunk, even though it hadn’t even been up to three hours since the party had started.

She sighed in exasperation. “Let me go get him before he does anything he’ll regret later on.”

“Good luck. He’s already started to gather some drunk satyrs. He’s probably going to hold another keg stand contest.”

She groaned and went after him, leaving Harry alone next to one of the numerous wine tables in the room. He grabbed one of the glasses and downed it without a second thought. It was a mix of Dionysus’s signature wine and a hint of nectar, making it sweeter.

He sighed to himself and placed the glass back on the table. He was already getting tired of staying in the spotlight, even though it had barely been a few hours since he arrived.

He decided to head out to the back of the house, where he knew there was a large garden there. It was warded off everybody but Aphrodite’s siblings and servants. It would probably be empty.

With that, he stood up and left the room, only pausing to grab a sage and poppy seed cigar from a refreshment table. He would definitely need it, anyways.

(II)

Just as Harry expected, the garden was empty and quiet. It was more of a maze, to be fair, and the tall hedges formed wide paths and forks for any wandering passerby. It would be perfect for him to hide himself in.

He walked under the overbearing iron gateway and took several random turns until he was sure that he was lost in the blooming rose hedges and the pointed iron poles poking out of them. The path was wide enough for several people to stand in it side-by-side, which was just what Harry needed. The only thing that illuminated his path was the twinkling stars and the full moon in the indigo sky, as well as the flashing lights from Aphrodite’s palace.

He sighed deeply and conjured a makeshift throne for him to sit on. It wasn’t nearly as grand as the one back in the Underworld, but it would have to do. It was still beautiful, as it was made of threads of inky darkness, shiny obsidian and little flecks of molten lava. It glowed ominously in the dark.

He sat on it and groaned softly as his body finally relaxed. This was familiar, this was comfortable, this was his nature. Settling into his royal throne, ruling over everybody in his world and crushing any opposition with a simple command.

He lit his cigar by lowering it to a glowing piece of magma next to his arm. It caught quickly and lit on fire, igniting a small flame that warmed his cold fingers. He took a deep inhale of it and savored the fumes in his lungs, before breathing out the fragrant smoke. Unlike the mortals, he could do this for as long as he wanted without suffering any after effects, unlike the way their throats became torn or the way their lungs shriveled up like a wilting seedling. He snorted. _Pathetic._

As he smoked, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander away, to his realm, to his little darling, to-

“Harry.” Harry exhaled and opened his eyes. Standing in front of him was Zeus himself.

His brother looked a bit older than when Harry had last seen him, although to be fair, the last time they had met was over a century ago. His salt-and-pepper hair was in a bun at the back of his head, and his beard was as bushy as ever.

“It’s ‘Hades’ to you, Zeus.” Harry said calmly, sitting up straighter. Zeus snorted.

“I’m your brother, Harry, not your servant.”

“Actually, my servants call me ‘Lord Hades’, but that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Zeus rolled his eyes. He summoned a small throne, just like Harry had, and sat down on it with a big _oomph_. Unlike Harry’s, Zeus’ throne was made of ivory and gold.

“What do you want?” Harry asked, cutting straight to the case. He wasn’t in the mood to talk do anybody at the moment, especially not his meddling brother.

“I’ve seen the way you look at my son, Harry.” Zeus’ voice had a slight tone of amusement in it.

“Your son?” Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow. The only person he had been looking at was-

_Shit._

“Yes, my son. Kouroi.” Zeus threaded his fingers with each other and leaned forward.

“So? What about it?”

“I know that you want him.”

Harry fought the urge to kick something. “Doesn’t matter.”

Zeus grinned. “Oh, but it does. You’ll never get him if Demeter has her way.”

“Demeter?”

Zeus’ grin widened. “His mother. I can’t believe you’re so behind, Harry.”

Harry gripped his cigar tightly and took another puff. How was his little darling the result of his _vile_ siblings?

“When did you hook up with Demeter?”

Zeus’ grin turned dark, and Harry momentarily wondered just what he had done do her.* “Quite a while ago. But that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Harry didn’t miss the use of his own words being thrown back at him. He clenched his jaw and counted to three in his head, before he said something that he would regret later on.

“If you don’t have anything more to say, then you can leave. I wish to be alone.” Harry said.

“I just came to give you permission to take him.”

Harry faltered. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You can take him. I’ve given you permission as his father and the head of his family.”

Harry kept quiet for a full minute before he spoke up again. “Thank you for your time Zeus. Please leave me be now.”

Thankfully, Zeus got the cue. He winked at Harry and vanished into thin air, leaving his throne behind to disintegrate into small particles of light.

Harry was going to need to think _very_ carefully about what he did next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Es kòrakas - fuck off
> 
> *koprìas - dirty buffoon 
> 
> *In case you didn't know, Zeus raped Demeter, who later gave birth to Persephone (or in this case, Draco)


End file.
